The Trial
by bobbyneuneuille
Summary: 'I declare open the trial of Alex Rider'. Chapter corrected by HollyBlue2. Thank you!


"I declare the trial of Alex Rider open."  
There is a hubbub in the crowded courtroom as the accused enters. He is young, only 17, blond and slim. He is smiling, though his smile looks a bit like a grin. They say he is dangerous, and we can easily see it is true. They say he is a killer, this we tend to believe a bit less. He surveys the people present, without seeing anyone in particular. The two policemen who flank him are armed to the teeth, and he is handcuffed. But this situation doesn't seem to disrupt his nonchalance as he goes to the dock. His dock.

The Judge asks for silence, obtained with some loud taps of the gavel. The trial can now begin. The man stands up and announces the charges against the accused.  
"Alex John Rider, 17 years old, is accused of several murders, active participation in drug trafficking, illegal sale of weapons, collaboration with Russian, Japanese, Italian criminal organisations and the sale of confidential information emanating from the government to the aforementioned organisations."  
There is not a sound in the courtroom. Of course they waited for an important crime, but the announcement of the charges surprised everyone. Then murmurs rise, quickly stopped by the Judge.

The man in front of them is hardly a child. With absolute confidence, he holds a document out to them. "Here is the information you asked for, Mr. Scorzo." In exchange, a briefcase containing banknotes, a huge sum, is given to him. Deal. Alex Rider just changed sides.

"We have the documents here that prove that Mr. Rider was given, exactly a year ago, the sum of 5 billions USD. Then, 11 months ago, 3,182 roubles, equivalent to 100 million USD. Other sums of this sort have been reported in these last twelve months. In parallel with this, the governement has been subjected to several attacks that wouldn't have been possible without some information Mr. Rider had in his possession; information that seems to have been sold."

His hand had perfectly adapted to the Magnum. Cold and heavy enough to have inertia, but the boy uses it with the ease of the one who uses it frequently. He enters the building, it is littered with kids' stuff, and he eliminates the sleeping woman without a guilty conscience. She doesn't need to be anonymous; she could be his neighbour, the one with who he easily talks to and whom he'd known his entire life. It wouldn't be any problem for him; as he shoots her two boys in the head – noticing one of them isn't much older than he is – it only makes him smile. Not a cold and unreal smile, a straight smile. He has learned to appreciate the sound, appreciate seeing; sometimes the pathetic look of his victims, hoping, maybe, that he would waiver this pleasure under the pretext of them being afraid. Afraid to die, afraid to suffer, afraid to lose. But Alex isn't afraid. He does. He wins. He takes.

"We can also prove that the accused has murdered no less than 25 people: men, women, and children. Peter Anderson was only 7!"  
The audience is now shocked. She couldn't pretend she expected these horrors, not from a kid. 25 people! The kid smiles. They way out with his number of kills. It surprises him a bit that they only found his track only 25 times. And yet he isn't particularly meticulous. But it doesn't really matter, if they lay hand on him or not.

Drugs. He had taken some when he was younger. He knows what it is like. And the money brought by the business. When the Russians offer him the job, he naturally accepts it. Eliminate the managers of the drug trafficking in England and in Russia. Establish his own market; it works. He stays in the shadows, the boss of the organization. He handles big money, but doesn't do anything with it. What he wants is destruction. So, as soon as the market seems to go well, he leaves it to the Russians. He settles in Moscow, because there are some jobs for him. The government goes badly, he has to prune. Seat corrupted men attached to the Mafia. No consideration for the politically correct. He has had enough of politically correct. What interests him is to hit hard. He doesn't kill only with his Magnum. He punches his victims. The apartments become scenes of slaughter, and Alex likes it all.

"Lily Trey, 12 years old, had her skull smashed in. The fingerprints of the accused have been found all over the appartment. Her mother had cuts all over her body, her skin disfigured." the Judge continues.  
The sale of weapons naturally crossed his road. How could he have avoided it, when he used it as well. He didn't just sit in his office, no, but took care in securing the delivery points. He bribed the guard; only to kill him afterwards. And he made sure, by controlling the government that the war carries on. Bloodbaths, always, and everywhere.

When the Special Forces knock at his door, he has just finished his shower. He knows who it is. He considers resisting, just so he can please them. He grabs his Magnum, opens the door and shoots the first man in front of him in the head. The others rush at him, he shoots some more. When, finally, they overcome him, he lays on the ground, corpses all around him, droplets of blood splattered on his face. And he wasn't even really serious.


End file.
